Pinterested?
by Inksterlol
Summary: Levy just inherited a giant victorian home & due to budgetary constraints has morphed into an avid DIY'er, convinced that between books and pinterest, she'll have her dream home in no time. One problem, she's not very good at it. To top things off, she's made a bet with Gajeel Redfox, the local hardware store owner, who said she wouldn't even last two weeks!Gajevy/rating may go up.
1. Chapter 1

"Excuse me, I'm here to see a Mr. Dreyer?"

Levy brushed a shaking hand down the front of her floral print dress and tried her best to look like a capable and confident adult who answered strange lawyer's summons every day of the week. It certainly seemed a better presentation than the reality; an intimidated 19 year old orphan whose closest friends were books.

The platinum blonde receptionist looked up, "Ah, you must be Miss McGarden. Macarov's 8:00."

Levy momentarily lost her ability for speech when the woman graced her with a dazzling smile. Goodness gracious, it looked as if the beauty before her dropped right out of a high end fashion magazine. Levy glanced at the nametag on the woman's pristine white blouse. Mira. She wondered if anyone ever bothered to inform Mira she should be walking a catwalk at New York Fashion Week rather than manning the front desk of a tiny lawyer's office in the even tinier town of Magnolia. Not a hair was out of place, a thread akimbo, or a makeup flaw apparent on the radiant woman. Levy reached up and ran her fingers through her own unruly mop of azure curls before she could stop herself. So much for the confidence thing she'd been going for.

"Y…Yes! That's me. I'm Levy….errr, Miss Mcgarden I mean." She hesitated, but then decided to be brave, "I have to ask, do you know why Mr Dreyer called me here?" Levy had not been back to Magnolia since she was a child, so when she received the letter from the town she'd been absolutely flummoxed.

The receptionist's smile grew even brighter. "You're white as a sheet, shame on that old coot for being so vague in his letter. " She tsked, "I'm sorry to say I don't know the specifics of your visit, but I assure you that the business Macarov called you here for is nothing to fret over." Levy let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding, gratefully dismissing the images she'd conjured up in the week since Dreyer's summons; scenarios that ranged from unknown library fines when she was six to getting sued for that one time when she was 12 years old and she allegedly punched Bobbie Thompson in the nose for calling her short. Allegedly mind you.

She managed her first smile since entering the office, "That's such a relief, although I still can't imagine what a lawyer would want with me."

"Well, imagine no longer my dear! Macarov is here!"

Mira smiled and Levy jumped when a booming voice reverberated through the front room. She looked around but didn't see a soul other than Mira and herself.

"Ahem."

Brows winging in surprise, she looked down and finally rested eyes on a tiny, wrinkled old man in a vibrantly striped shirt and loose brown pants. Levy just barely kept from gaping.

Rare indeed was the day when she, Levy Mcgarden…measuring in at a whopping 5 foot nothing could claim she looked down upon anyone over the age of 12. Today was that day, and it gave her a warm fuzzy feeling that momentarily overrode her raw nerves and gave her the confidence to take his offered hand in a firm handshake.

"It's nice to meet you Mr. Dreyer."

"Bah!" Levy jumped again at the old man's booming negation, but quickly settled when he softened it with a smile. "Mr. Dreyer was my father, you can call me Macarov."

"O…Ok."

"Now then, right this way, we've business to attend!"

He bustled away to his office at a speed and spryness belying both his age and stature. Realizing she was still standing with her hand shaking air, Levy felt her face heat and cast Mira a sheepish nod before trotting after the him.

The office was modest in size and decoration. Levy's eyes instantly zeroed in on two towering bookshelves to her left. They held dozens of heavy leather-bound tomes she'd just love to take a peek at. Forcing herself to resist, she instead took her place across from Macarov, who already seated himself behind a giant mahogany desk. She barely managed to keep herself from peering beneath to see if he was sitting on a stack of some of those books of his, because frankly, it was the only way she could fathom how he managed to see over the polished wooden top. She clasped her hands in her lap instead and sat up straight, eager to finally discover what she'd been called to his office for.

Unfortunately, Macarov had other ideas. "Why don't you tell me about yourself, Miss Mcgarden."

Levy momentarily deflated, but managed to rally at his encouraging smile. "Well, I'm twenty years old. I actually lived here in Magnolia until my parents were killed in a crash when I was seven."

Macarov nodded and cast her a sympathetic smile. "I recall reading of that in the newspaper. As small as Magnolia is, I'm sorry to say I did not know your parents personally. As I recall they were both revered linguists?"

Levy smiled, remembering her mother's soft voice speaking to her in magical languages, and her father's deep timbre rumbling against her back as he read a bed time story. Over the years their faces had grown fuzzy, but not their voices, nor the memory of being loved. "Yes they were. I'm happy to say they passed their love of language and the written word on to me. I became the state's ward when they died and I think the books they left me were the only thing that kept me going for a long time."

She fiddled with her skirt and blushed, unused to talking about herself, let alone reveal such personal details to a man she'd only just met. Makarov seemed to be one of those rare souls with the ability to put one at ease almost immediately. "I kept to myself for a long while, at school and at the orphanage, but eventually, one of my teachers realized the material she was teaching was too easy for me and encouraged the orphanage to have me tested. It turns out I was a bit of a child prodigy, so from the age of 9 to 18 my life is something of a blur. Before I knew it, I had masters degree in linguistics, as well as a bachelors in archeology and several minors."

She blew a wayward curl that flopped onto her forward out of her face and sighed," I spent a year overseas doing fieldwork after that and loved every minute, but I contracted a fever a year ago and had to return to recover. It took six months before I started feeling like myself again."

She peaked at Makarov to see if she was boring him or his eyes had glazed over, but he was listening to her intently, and waited patiently for her to continue. The attention was both unnerving and comforting at the same time, it had been a long time since she'd had anyone to talk to that was genuinely interested.

" I thought about returning to fieldwork when I recovered, unfortunately the group I was working with had to fill my position when I got sick. I found myself a bit short on funds and have been working at the University of Fiore as a researcher ever since."

Levy stroked the old wood and shrugged, "The degrees I have would qualify me for teaching, but…well, between my age and height, it's difficult to get students to take me seriously, let alone convince the university to hire me for such." She hesitated to continue, but decided Makorov might actually be a person who would understand, "… it's also the same reason I haven't tried harder to get back into field work."

Makarov eyed her, nodding, "It can be difficult in any field, but particularly one of an academic nature such as yours to acknowledge that someone as young as yourself could make mighty and pertinent contributions. I imagine your vocational talents are somewhat specialized and the positions and status that comes with your work create an exceedingly competitive environment. Ambition can make people do harsh things, they can't have made your life easy. It is a pity that your peers have failed to recognize you for the brilliant young lady that I've no doubt you are."

Levy felt her face heat and shrugged, "I can understand their position, though it has been very frustrating…." She rallied and grinned, "But I'll manage, I always do." Levy hesitated, twiddling her thumbs.

Instantly picking up on her pause, Makarov raised a brow, "…I sense a but in there."

Levy huffed and puffed her cheeks, "It's just…I just turned 20 and I feel as if I've never really experienced regular, everyday life. I never had the chance to make real friends or date. I don't even know how to drive! Did you know that? What self respecting 20 year old doesn't have a drivers licence? I've never had a sleepover or…or been to a dance. I have all this knowledge in my head, and yet I feel like I don't know anything about the real world. I want an address all my own and a car and friends and to learn how to cook and to get married and…and…" Levy trailed off, at a loss and unsure how to express in words how desperate she was for stability and normalcy, and above all…family.

"Slow down my girl, you have plenty of time for all those things. Just because you have a fancy degree does not mean you've resigned yourself to a life dedicated to only that. You can choose to follow any path you wish, and if there isn't one to suit your needs, I say you bust out the old Machete and forge a path of your own! The world is yours for the taking!" Makarov was standing up on his chair by the time he'd finished delivering his words of wisdom and Levy decided the old man harbored a secret love for theatrics. His nose colored when he realized he was balancing precariously atop his chair, and he plopped down with an embarrassed chuckle.

Levy grinned, more at home with the eccentric old lawyer every minute. "You give good advice. I've just been so adrift…it's been hard to see past my own problems I suppose."

She perked and leaned forward in her chair. "I did get an offer to work for my old field site as a stateside consultant the other day. It's tempting, because it means I could work from literally anywhere. I could bring in an income and use my skills but still have time to actually experience every day life." She remembered her tiny city apartment with the single window. Aside from her books, and a couch, she didn't even have a bed or even furnishings. It was a place to live; just as the tent at her research sight was before that, a sterile college dormitory before that, and the orphanage before them all. Places to live and sleep. Nothing more and nothing less.

"I've been hesitating because I don't really have a place to truly call home and I've no idea where I'd even begin to look for one."

Makarov cackled and slapped the desk in glee, "WelI! I do believe I may have the ideal solution for you! The fates are at work, mark my words! This is the perfect Segway into why I've call you here today." Straightening, Makarov cleared his throat and adjusted a nonexistent tie at his neck and then assumed the quintessential 'serious lawyer face.' "Did you realize, Miss Mcgarden, that you had a great aunt right here in Magnolia?'

Levy felt the breath leave her body, "No. No I didn't " Family. Real, living family. Could she ever be so lucky?

Makarov nodded, "Well, you did." Levy's hopes crashed around her ears.

"DID, sir?" Makarov nodded. "Bella Anne Lee McGarden. My client right up until last week when she passed at the ripe old age of 99 and three quarters." He pulled out a drawer and withdrew a stack of paper as thick as Levy's arm. Grabbing a pair of spectacles hanging around his neck, he skimmed over the first page before placing the stack back on the desk and locking eyes with her.

"You, Miss Mcgarden, are Bell's sole heir and I am here to execute her will." He smoothed the papers before him and his eyes grew somber, "Before we get to that however, she wanted me to tell how deeply she regretted her role or rather, lack of, that led to you becoming a state's ward when your parents passed. At the time she was still bitter over an argument she had with your father. She made some rash decisions that ultimately affected where you found yourself in the world."

He sighed and tapped at the paper. "As time went on, she came to realize the implications of decision she made to let you become the state's ward and asked me to extend her sincerest apologies. I believe several years later she looked into reconnecting with you, but discovered you were already away at college and decided it best to remain in your past and keep up on your life from afar and without interference. But keep up with you she did Levy Mcgarden. Many a time Bell sat in that very chair you're in now and told me about your newest accomplishment. Frankly, in some ways I feel as if I already know you my dear."

Opening another drawer, Macarov pulled out a worn wooden picture frame and slid it across the desk. Levy leaned forward. It displayed a yellowed and time warn photograph of a giant sprawling Victorian home. In front of the home was a rather sour woman standing next to a young man and what she assumed was his wife. She held a tiny baby with big eyes and a toothless grin. Levy's breath hitched in her chest, The photograph may be black and white, but she would bet money on the fact that the baby's hair was sky blue and his eyes a warm honey brown. Beyond a shadow of a doubt, Levy knew in her gut that she was staring at a photograph of her father in his infancy.

Levy devoured the photo with greedy eyes and stroked over her fathers face with trembling fingertips.

Makarov pressed on, "I believe Bell hoped that what she's gifting you with in death will in some small way give you what she never could in life. "

Tearing her eyes from the photograph, Levy furrowed her brow, "A picture in a picture frame Mr. Dreyer?"

Macarov smiled, and came round his desk to stand beside her. He tapped on the frame with his pen, "Not quite my dear. She had something a bit more grandiose in mind." With a flourish, he produced a set of old skeleton keys on a hook and plopped them onto the desk. Nodding again at the picture, or more specifically, the Victorian house pictured within, "She's giving you a place to finally call home again after all these many years." 

"Congratulation's Miss McGarden, You've just become a home owner."

…

Levy's brain short circuited. She couldn't be certain how long she sat there shell shocked, but it must have been quite a while because when she finally focused, Makarov was fanning her and Mira was tapping her cheeks with a cool hand and calling her name. 

When she turned to Makarov, gaping, he sighed in relief. "Oh thank goodness, I was afraid I'd shocked you into a permanent state of vegetation. Are you alright my dear?"

Gulping in a much needed lungful of oxygen, Levy nodded with wide eyes. "Yes. It's…Just a lot to take in."

Makarov nodded, "That it is. But you seem to be a resilient young lady and I've no doubt you're up for the challenge!"

Mira patted her hand and straightened, "Sir, shall I get Levy's second surprise now? It just arrived a few minutes ago."

He eyed Levy for a moment longer and nodded with a grin, "May as well Mira."

"A…s…second surprise?" Levy could barely process the first and all it's implications, let alone wrap her head around the idea of a second. But it seemed Macorov was a go big or go home type of man, because her second 'surprise' was a doozy.

"Oi."

Levy turned. A towering and hulking beast of a man with shoulders spanning the breadth of the doorway frowned down at her with intense eyes of a burning crimson. He had long, wild obsidian locks that he'd haphazardly tied back from his face. He also sported a myriad of piercings on his chin, nose, ears and even eyebrows. She dragged her eyes downward to take in a worn flannel shirt with rolled up sleeves displaying tanned and muscled forearms that…dear lordy, he had piercings there too. And scars she noticed. Lots of them. He had thick leather bands on each wrist that gave way to strong, work worn hands and long fingers. She continued her perusal, taking in legs clad in faded jeans that did nothing to hide the fact that his thighs were as heavily muscled as the rest of him. It was safe to say that this man did not skip leg day. He wore big leather, shit kicker work boots, covered in what appeared to be sawdust. Holy Fiore… He was…he…

"M…Macarov?"

"Yes my dear?"

Levy took several deep breaths and stood from her chair, although she maintained a solid grip on its back as she was starting to feel lightheaded. "A…are you trying to tell me that my great aunt Bell left me a…man?!"

Said man in question lost the scowl on his face and snorted, "Gi Hi Hi. You'd be so lucky Shrimp!" He turned his back to her and picked up something from Mira who stood behind him before turning back around with the deep scowl back on his face and the hint of…dare she say…a pout. "Nah…she left you Lily!"

"Mrowwwwwwwwwrrrrrr."

A huge black cat with a scar over his left eye stared back at Levy with intelligent eyes that currently screamed annoyance. More than likely due to the way the big beast of a man was holding the feline beneath it's armpits, the rest of him left to dangle .

Levy nodded dumbly…and simply stared. "A…a cat…I suppose that would make more sense." Not that anything was making much sense to her overwhelmed mind at the moment.

"Damn skippy, Shorty." The lug redoubled his scowl and plopped the put-out cat into Levy's arms. While she struggled to hold his substantial weight, Gajeel turned to the lawyer "Dammit Mac, what the hell are we giv'n Lily to this little girl for? He shoulda went to me and you know it!"

Macarov shot Gajeel a venomous stare. "Levy Mcgarden, I'd like you to meet Gajeel Redfox, contractor and just recently, the owner of Magnolia's one and only hardware store. Don't mind him my dear, he just recently returned from contracting overseas and seems to have left any manners he might have once had. Not that he had many to begin with.

Gajeel grinned and puffed his chest, "Never had much need of em, no point talkin' frilly and beatin' around the bush when a body can get straight to the point and save himself a load of time and trouble in the long run. What the hell's wrong with bein' honest, I say."

Macarov rubbed his forehead and groaned, "Tact has it's place brat, one day you will learn that and I just hope I'm there to see it. Now…can we get back to why you are here?"

Gajeel bristled and crossed his arms, directing those blood red eyes back at Levy with laser intensity. "I been takin' care of Lily ever since Bell the Beast got sick last April. Which is why he should stay with me!"

Makarov leaned over, "I assure you, calling your aunt Bell the Beast is a form of endearment in eyes of Mr. Redfox, he has a penchant for 'gifting' everyone he meets with nicknames."

Turning to Gajeel, Macarov wagged his finger, "We've already talked about this Brat. This was what Bell wished, now behave yourself! Levy isn't used to your crazed idea of what you think passes for civil conversation. We're hoping to keep her here for a good long while, but that isn't going to happen if you scare her away."

Gajeel huffed, but did deflate a bit. "Whatever you say Gramps, but you can't honestly tell me you expect this bitty little girl…" He began walking a circle around Levy, eyeing her skeptically, "…ta live in that run down hunk of wood all by herself. The place is one step away from getting a big fat condemned sign slapped on the door. It's dangerous. How's the Shrimp here gonna live in it, let alone fix it up ta code?! Eh?"

Silent up to this point, Levy had managed to keep her temper at the big man's goading jibes at her height, and even her age…but the moment he all but stated she wasn't capable, she quickly went from a dull simmer to a full blooded boil. She received this same condescending treatment from her colleagues and that was plently. No way in Magnolia was she about to take such abuse from a stranger as well, no matter how intriguing he was. Squaring her narrow shoulders, Levy squeezed Lily tight to her chest and walked up to Gajeel to stand toe to toe with him. Ignoring the crick in her neck required to meet his eyes, she shot him her sternest glare and puffed her cheeks.

"You listen here, you giant, oversized lumberjack, I may be small and a tad young, but I'm an adult the same as you and I'll have you know I'm more than capable of taking care of myself, Lily, and a house too if I have to! Just you wait!" and then as an afterthought, "And stop calling me short!" She jostled the very large Lily in her arms, struggling under his substantial weight.

Judging by his shocked eyes and blessed silence, Levy took a moment to bask in the fact that she seemed to have taken Mr. Redfox aback. That is, until he rallied about a half second later and winged his eyebrows, smirking down at her. "Oh? Who would have known, the kitten has claws. Alright, Levy Mcgarden, let's just see how far you get on yer own. I wager you won't last two weeks!"

Levy stomped her foot, "I will so!"

Gajeel grinned, showing her his sharp canines, "You keep that fire going Shrimp, yer gonna need it for that old Victorian. I'll guarentee ya that. You last a week, and I'll let ya keep Lily." He plucked the long-suffering feline from her arms before Levy even knew what was happening, and then strode out the door before she, Mira, or Makarov could even blink. Shocked, Levy finally managed to run to the exit and holler after him as he gunned a big black pick-up truck, "Just you wait, Gajeel Redfox, You're going to eat your words! Because I'm going to win this bet!"

Gajeel stuck his head out the widow as he pulled away, "I look forward to it Shrimp!" And then he was gone, a poof of exhaust and Levy's still boiling temper the only indication he'd been there at all.

Macarov walked up next to Levy and smiled, "You do realize my dear…that you just agreed to a bet to win a cat that you already legally own?"

Levy let out a shocked gasp, "That sneaky devil! Is that what his aim was all along?!"

Macarov chuckled, "Don't let the piercings and ego fool you. Gajeel is smart. I think he saw an opportunity present itself and simply went with it. Believe it or not my dear, that big lug really does love that cat, he's had Lily for quite a while now. Try not to judge him too harshly, he can actually be very nice in his own way."

Levy's eyes softened a bit, "Maybe I should just give Lily to him then, it's not as if we have any attachment to each other."

Macarov snorted, "And watch Gajeel gloat? I don't think so young lady. You stick to your guns, and do what you set out to do. I'm sure Lily's place in this world with sort itself in the end."

Levy nodded and narrowed her eyes, "You're right, I can't let Gajeel win. Not after all that." Turning around she marched back into the office, trusting Makarov to follow. Picking up the old picture framem, she held it tight against her chest.

"Alright Makarov, just show me where to sign, it looks like I'm moving to Magnolia!"

….to be continued…


	2. Chapter 2

"Pinterested?" Chapter 2

…Two weeks later….

"Ohhhhhhh my goodness."

"Have a nice day Miss!"

Levy flinched as the driver of the bus slammed the luggage compartment door, having just unloaded her two suitcases, backpack, and sleeping bag. Nice day indeed. He was already back in the driver's seat by the time she managed to tear her eyes away from her first face to face with her new home.

"Wait! I…."

Too late, the big Greyhound was already pulling away, kicking up dust on its way back down the bumpy gravel road that Levy had been forced to pay the driver extra just to get him to drive down. All 3 three miles of it. She began to regret declining Makarov's offer to meet her at the bus stop inside town and drive her out here himself. At the time she hadn't wanted to burden him, but now…well she could blame no one but herself for the sudden and jarring sense of isolation that chased a chill down her spine despite the heated summer sun beating down on her freckled shoulders. Her only companions out here were her own thoughts and the looming shadow of the Victorian monstrosity that rose from the overgrown grounds like something out of a horror movie. Levy hated scary movies.

It had been two weeks since her meeting with Makarov, and she'd spent that time finalizing her research at the university and making arrangements to leave the big city for small town Magnolia. She'd also accepted the consultant offer from her old field site. It would be at least a month or two before they sent her any actual work and Levy was glad for it, because boy did she have her work cut out for her here. Turning back around, Levy surveyed her new property.

She was certain the circled gravel drive had once been impressive and well kept, but now it was a meager rutted lane of bumps and holes overgrown by tall grass and weeds. She shuddered to think what it would be like after a hardy rainfall. Levy decided to turn her attention elsewhere lest a deep depression take hold.

A handful of towering oaks dotted the immediate property, two of which were so close that they provided shade to the south side of the house. More weeds, tangled shrubs, and grass almost as tall as she was covered the rest, at least what she could see. Several thousand feet from the house on the North and South side more ancient oaks protected the property from the elements of the Easterly facing house. The North side was only two rows deep and gave way to golden fields of rolling wheat, but to the South the trees continued as far as the eye could see, part of a small forest that the Magnolia brochure in her backpack claimed was a huge point of attraction to hikers and hunters.

But it was what the back of the house faced that was its crowning glory. The property butted directly up against the massive Lake Kardia. And as of two weeks ago to the day, Levy now owned almost the entirety of the big lake's eastern shore. It also just so happened that the monstrous lake was Magnolia's main generator of income and jobs for the locals.

It was that bit of information that Levy latched onto immediately when she read the little brochure. According to Makarov, the Victorian sported no less than 9 bedrooms and 5 baths, not to mention a library, cellar, grand foyer, dining room, several sitting rooms, attic, and kitchen. Oh, and a boathouse of all things. She knew the home was big, but when she learned of just how much space it possessed Levy had been at a loss as to what to do with it. She was just one small person.

But then divine inspiration struck. The historical home was near enough to Magnolia and all of it's quaint shops and amenities to remain appealing to tourists, but far enough away to provide the peace and quiet vacationer's from the bigger cities sought. Not to mention it possessed unspoiled, lake front property to Kardia.

Armed with that bit of geographic knowledge, Levy made the momentous decision just last week that she was going to turn Aunt Bell's home into a bed and breakfast. The fact that she could neither cook nor knew anything about running such an enterprise didn't deter Levy in the least…that's what books were for after all.

She'd also been ecstatic to learn, once she calmed down from her encounter with that infuriating iron studded lumberjack, that her great aunt had left her and Lily $350,000 dollars to fix the place up. But now, looking at the property in person, Levy realized it was going to take every penny and possibly then some to make the place habitable. Not only habitable, she reminded herself, it had to be fantastic if she was going to convince tourists to stay for their vacation. And she had a year to do it.

Makarov had laid out the provisions of her taking ownership of the property before she signed the papers, stating that Aunt Bell had paid the property taxes up for the next three years, but the city was only giving her a year to bring the sprawling mansion up to code, and if she didn't, the house would be condemned and Levy would be left homeless once again. She was determined not to let that happen.

One year to make the mansion a home, and two more to turn it into a self-sustaining enterprise…because frankly, there was no way she'd ever be able to afford the property taxes on her own. The land was too valuable.

Levy turned her attention away from the grounds and back to the house itself in all its tragic beauty. From Mira, she'd learned the Victorian had once been a classic green, with burgundy trim and blue accents. But now, the main color scheme of the house seemed to be a muddy grey with peeling gingerbread trim.. At least half of all the windows were boarded up completely, and the rest were so covered in dirt and grime that Levy doubted they provided much light into the interior. It was missing several shutters, and of the ones that were there, hung precariously by only one hinge. And the porch…well, suffice to say, it appeared to be lopsided.

That's not to say the mansion had no redeeming features. Quite the opposite, in fact. The architecture of the manor itself was every bit as beautiful as the day it was constructed. It sported every classic preconceived notion of what one would expect to see in a Queen Anne style Victorian, from the decorative trim, to the Mansard roof, wraparound porch, gables, and…on both the north and south sides- round towers with steep, pointed roofs.

Given the current condition, it was a home to fuel nightmares and inspire horror novels. But as a book lover, Levy had a vivid imagination, and with it she could picture the splendor and near magical glow that she knew waited to be unearthed. The archeologist in her was no stranger to excavation, and she couldn't wait to see what would be revealed once the mansion was released from its heavy chains of time, grime, and neglect.

It was just like her, Levy realized with a start. Most would dismiss the mansion for a lost cause at first glance, never bothering to look beyond it's outward appearance to what lay beneath. This old mansion needed a caretaker just as much as she need a home. All it needed was a chance, and she was determined to give it one.

With renewed determination, Levy hiked up the slipping strap of her backpack and marched forward, ready to enter her new home. She left the suitcases where they were, deciding to retrieve them later. She gingerly place a foot on the first step, testing her weight on its battered surface, and sighed in relief when it held her weight. She winced when the second step uttered a creaking groan of complaint, but continued up, albeit a bit more quickly.

Once on the porch, Levy glanced about. A lone rocking chair sat next to the door. She could picture a somber old woman, full of regret and sadness, rocking gently two and fro as she stared at the drive- waiting for her family to return to her, and knowing they never would. Poor aunt Bell. Though she knew she had every right to be angry with her aunt, Levy couldn't find it in her heart to do so. The loneliness Bell must have experienced when her family died and knowing the last words said to them were in anger was punishment enough. Levy knew first hand of the terrible lonesomeness being on your own in the world brought about and would not wish such pain on her worst enemy.

Tearing her eyes away from the forlorn rocker, Levy dug the keys out of the pocket of her jean shorts. Her hand only trembled a little when she pushed the corroded iron into the keyhole. She'd expected to have to fight the ancient lock for entrance, but surprisingly, the key turned easily on the first try. Perhaps someone had oiled it, Makarov maybe? She was almost disappointed when the door swung open as silent as a ghost. In all the scary movies, weren't doors belonging to houses such as this one supposed to creak ominously?. Hauling in a deep breath, Levy stepped over the threshold of her new home.

The first thing that greeted her eyes was a huge chandelier, covered in dust and suspended from the irrationally high, arched ceiling of the foyer. Levy felt a sudden urge to begin humming the Phantom of the Opera theme song. This place most definitely inspired comparable feelings to what she experienced when she read the book. Double for when she watched the movie.

Muted sunbeams filtered through the grimy windows and open doorway, showcasing the dust motes gently floating in the air, as well as highlighting the warm cherry colored wood tones sported on everything from the banister, to the trim and floors. The dust could not hide the beauty of the carefully carved timber. Even someone ignorant to the intricacies of architecture and design such as herself could tell how much craftsmanship and love must have went into the mansion's construction. She imagined it would bring any carpenter, architect, or contractor to their knees in appreciation…maybe even tears.

The scowling face of Gajeel Redfox filtered into Levy's head and she scowled right back at it…maybe not every contractor. She doubted that big plaid loving jerk had ever shed so much as one drop of saltwater in his whole life. He wouldn't know beauty if it kicked him in those obscenely white teeth of his.

Dismissing his maddening face from her thoughts, Levy began to walk through the main floor. To the left of the Foyer, the first of the sitting rooms resided behind glass fronted French doors. Peeking inside, she gasped in appreciation at the multitude of windows, made no less impressive by the fact that every single one was boarded up. The outline of classical furniture hid beneath gray sheets that Levy suspected were once white. Continuing on, she passed what she assumed was a music room if the collapsed baby grand piano in the middle of the chamber was any indication. Next as well as a dining room and a butler's pantry. The further she went into the house, the more Levy felt as if time itself had arrested. She knew Aunt Bell once lived in the home, and yet Levy hadn't seen so much as one modern convenience. Well, aside from an old rotary phone in the hallway; and frankly, even that was older than dirt.

Moving toward the back of the house, Levy entered the kitchen. Oh my. It was huuuuuuge. Levy always imagined older homes possessed small kitchens, but this…this was something else. A sprawling, butcher block table reigned supreme and Levy could just picture the housekeeper and cooks and servants of times past, chatting and laughing about the upstairs as they rolled out dough and chopped herbs and vegetables for the master's dinner. She ran her fingertips over the cuts and dimples in the worn wood. Downtown Abby, eat your heart out.

Equally as impressive as the island, was a huge cast iron stove as well as an honest to goodness stone hearth. The cabinets were cherry, but in need of some serious tlc, and the counters were some kind of stone and unfortunately cracked in several places. The entire west wall was covered in windows, and as she neared them, Levy could see why. The glass, fortunately unbroken and free of boards, framed a picture perfect view of Lake Kardia in all it's glistening glory. The house sat back from it by a good thousand feet or so. A broken, cobbled path began just off the back porch, offering precarious passage down a gently sloping hill to any brave enough to chance it's jagged remains.

A small, remnant of a sandy beach nestled in weeds and strewn with broken dock sat to the right, and a collapsed boathouse to the left. Rocky shoreline took over both sides after that, as well as more big oaks and even a couple weeping willows. Beyond, Levy could just barely see the opposite shore, and on anything other than a pristinely clear day, she wasn't certain one would be able to see it at all. Sighing, she took several long moments to appreciate the view before turning back to the kitchen.

Ancient appliances graced a couple of the countertops and Levy winced, realizing there wasn't a fridge or icebox. Just one of many expenses she'd be footing all too soon. Her luck at finding the big kitchen and unbroken windows ended the moment she left the space.

Groaning, she found what appeared to be a den next. It too sported giant windows and a million dollar view…at least it was meant to. The problem resided in the fact that half of a downed oak's massive branch currently thrust haphazardly through several shattered panes of glass. The end of the limb rested on an old mustard colored settee like one of Leonardo DeCaprio's French girls in Titanic.

Levy quickly shut that door with a shudder when dollar signs began to flash before her eyes. Making her way back around, she discovered several tiny rooms that she suspected had once been servants quarters, but were now filled with old broken furniture and boxes. The south side of the mansion was dominated by one long hallway filled with big old landscapes and even a portrait or two. A single massive door, or rather pair of them, considering it was another French configuration- nestled square in the middle of the hall. Much to Levy's frustration, the blasted things were shut and locked tight, and unlike the sitting room earlier with the glass paned doors-these ones were solid wood. Levy tried every key on the ring Makarov gave her, and came up with not. Muttering under her breath, she eventually conceded defeat, giving the doors one last glare before making her way back to the foyer. Glancing up, she prepared to make her way up the curving staircase.

She was over halfway up when a huge groan sounded from the wood, followed by several creaks. Panicking, Levy froze. That didn't sound good at all. Grasping the banister in a death grip, she forced herself to continue, sighing in relief when she made it to the landing without the stairs collapsing beneath her. Glancing about she had the option of going left or right. The North or South Wing, was it? Levy giggled to herself, she was almost disappointed there didn't appear to be a West wing. After all, wasn't that the one the Beast forbid Bell from entering in the story? She snickered again when she remembered her Great Aunt's first name had been Bell.

Oh well, may as well go for the North first. She turned, and gulped, this hallway's windows were boarded up so completely and efficiently, that not so much as a smidgeon of light broke through. Gulping, Levy gripped her backpack strap tight, and forced herself to continue. She'd no more than let the shadows engulf her than her heart began pounding and goosebumps skittered across her arms. This was the part of the story when the ghost or ghoul would spring from the darkness and drag the unsuspecting character to it's hellish lair. She could practically feel heated breath puffing on the back of her neck and the creak of steps behind her. She almost…

"Oi!"

"Kyaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!"

A heavy hand landed on Levy's shoulder, yanking her back and simultaneously inciting cardiac arrest. Levy reeled away from the hand and collided hard with the hallway wall, clutching at her chest and trying to drag much needed air into her overworked lungs. A flashlight clipped on a second later, illuminating the face of…the one and only…

"….G….Gajeel?!"

The big man shot her a shit eating grin and nonchalantly flipped the flashlight, making the beam skitter wildly around the hallway until the handle landed back in his waiting hand with practiced ease.

"The one and only, Shorty. Scared ya, did I?"

He dragged his eyes down her form from head to toe, taking in the hand still clutching her chest and wide eyed expression.

Levy closed her eyes and took a deep breath, before opening them again to glare what she hoped was very pointy and painful daggers at the smug man. "Y…you horrible meanie! What would possess you to creep up on a person like that?!"

He just shrugged and crossed his arms, chuckling in that strange way of his. "Gi Hi Hi. Ya should of seen yer face shrimp. And meanie? Really? I thought Mack said you were some kind of genius. 'Meanie' all that big brain of yours can come up with?"

Levy puffed her cheeks and pouted, "You try thinking up a decent insult when you've just had the wits scared out of you."

He scoffed, "Whatever you say half-pint."

Levy bristled and stomped her foot, a leftover habit from her childhood she'd never been able to break. "That's the third short name you've called me since I almost died from sudden onset cardiac arrest. My name is Levy! L-E-V-Y, try it sometime! Any what in the world are you doing in MY house?!"

He rolled his eyes but then sobered. "The old man said you were supposed ta get in today and that you insisted on comin' here alone. I figured the first thing you'd do is start pokin' yer nose around the house, which anyone with sense woulda' figured was a bad idea. But apparently you don't got any, so you better thank yer stars I did decide to pop over."

Levy took a deep breath and counted to ten…twice, before looking back up at the infuriating beast of a man. "it's my house, why in the world can't I look around?"

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose before pinning her with those piercing crimson eyes of his. "I thought I told ya Shorty, the house ain't safe. The main floor's sound enough, but this whole North wing has several rotting supports, the same goes for the third floor's South side." He reached out, grasping her right hand in his own large mitt and tugged her away from the dark hallway. She thought about resisting, but judging by his firm grip on her hand coupled with his size, decided it would be a waste of energy.

Huffing in consternation, she let him lead her back to the landing as he continued on with his rant, "Don't even get me started on the staircase, yer lucky yer so tiny, otherwise you'd a went clean through!" Once they stopped, he released her hand and put his own on his waist, glaring down at her.

Levy crossed her arms and toed at the wood, testing it's strength with a tap. "You're just trying to scare me so you win the bet and get Lily!"

Calloused fingers grasped her chin in a firm but surprisingly gentle grip, forcing her head up to meet his eyes. Lordy he was close, Levy thought distantly, as the breath hitched in her chest. She wasn't certain she'd ever been this close to a man in her life.

"Listen up LEVY, I want ta keep Lily, that's true enough. But that don't mean I'm goin' ta let some little girl in way over her head kill herself in the process, just because she wants to play house." He released her chin and stepped back, eyeing her up and down again. "How old are ya anyway Shrimp?"

Once she regained her senses enough to process his words, Levy rolled her eyes and placed her hands on her hips. "I'll have you know I'm twenty years old you condescending lout! Believe it or not, I've been around a time or two, and I can even tie my own shoes! How old are YOU grandpa?"

He lost his scowl, grinning at her sarcasm and sass, "Touché Shorty. I'm the ripe old age of twenty six, why?"

Levy shrugged, "I don't know, it seemed only fair since I told you my age." Remembering his comment about the staircase, she narrowed her eyes and frowned, "If the stairs are as bad as you say, how in the world did YOU get up here?"

He grinned and tapped his chest, "Contractor, remember? Not only that, I've been keepin' an eye on this old dump for a long time now. I know where ta step and where ta stay the hell away from."

Levy eyed him skeptically and he rolled his eyes, "That, and there's a back staircase that I may or may not have used instead. Now come on, let's go downstairs where it's safer, ya can glare at me just as easily down there as ya can up here." Once again, he gripped her hand and tugged, but this time Levy dug her heels in.

Feeling her resistance, he actually stopped, and Levy was able to snatch her hand out of his loosened grip. "I'm not a child, stop leading me about like one!"

He looked like he was ready to protest but something in her face must have convinced him to concede defeat because the steely set of his eyes softened just a bit and he nodded. "Fair enough, just stay close Shrimp."

Levy reluctantly trailed behind him, muttering under her breath, "Enough with the nicknames already, at least pick just one and stick with it." He led her down the South hallway, and then turned down an offshoot of that-finally reaching a modest stairwell.

The man must have had ears like a bat, because he heard her whispered complaint and barked out a laugh before turning his head back to look at her. "All in good time pocket princess…I gotta try em' all out first. How else am I going ta decide on my favorite?"

Gajeel spent the next half hour pointing out various areas in the house that under no circumstance should she venture. Begrudgingly, after she begged enough, he also some of the safer routes and back entry's. He told her what was behind the stuck door. A library. But dragged her away before she could kick it down, which she planned to do the first chance she got. A library should never be behind a locked door, especially if she was on the other side of it.

He showed her the water main and then turned it on, and even lit the boiler before showing her the only working bathroom on the 1st floor. Eventually, they ended up in the cellar standing in front of a big metal box.

Pulling her forward and using his flashlight to highlight her newest lesson, Gajeel opened it's cover. "This is the fuse box Shorty. Under no circumstances are ya ta mess with these switches, you hear me?"

Levy frowned up at him, obediently offering inquiry, "Ok, why not?"

He poked at wire on the wall, "You see this? That's knob and tube wiring, it runs through the whole house. This shit's ancient. 9 times outa 10, it's this shit right here that starts the fires ya hear about in old houses."

Finally realizing what he was implying, Levy gaped, "Are you trying to tell me I won't have any electricity until the whole house gets rewired?!"

Gajeel shrugged, grinning, "You got it kitten. Hope yer not scared of the dark." He sobered when he saw her white face. "Wait…don't tell me yer actually scared of the dark?!"

Levy plucked at her ruffled tanktop, "Of course not!" Unfortunately, she feared her response had been a bit two quick. She could see the disbelief in Gajeel's eyes.

Miraculously, he didn't call her on it, he simply looked down at the flashlight he held thoughtfully, before turning on his heel and marching back up the stairs, trusting Levy to follow. "You got a flashlight in those bags I saw outside?"

Levy scrambled up the stairs. "N…no."

She heard his heavy sigh, and the mumbled, "Of course she doesn't." Continuing to the main door he walked back into the open air. Levy followed, blinking owlishly in the direct sunlight of the outdoors. The same big black pick-up truck from before sat in the drive, right in front of her suitcases. He eyed the sleeping bag and then shot her a hard glare, "When the hell is the rest of yer stuff comin' Shorty?"

Levy felt her face heat and toed at the dirt, "That's it."

Gajeel shot her an incredulous look, "Ya can't be serious."

She crossed her arms and met his eyes, "I haven't had a home to put stuff in for a long time, and I learned a long time ago that it's easier to keep things light. Its easier to leave for the next place when you know you won't have to leave anything important behind." She nodded to the first suitcase, "I have my parents books…" She nodded to the second, "…and clothes and toiletries…" she gestured to her backpack, "As well as my laptop and a few other items I use for research…" finally she kicked at the sleeping bag, "and of course a nice warm sleeping bag. I'm set."

Secretly she wished she hadn't sold the rest of her camping gear from her fieldwork days, realizing that it would have really come in handy come night time. But how in the world was she supposed to know the wiring was a fire waiting to happen?"

Running a hand through his wild mane of hair-today he wore it loose, although the rest of him looked the exact same from two weeks ago, right down to the plaid shirt- Gajeel groaned, seeming to war with himself. Levy crossed her arms and waited patiently for him to decide whatever the hell it was he was so conflicted over. Finally, he shot her a look somewhere between betrayal and disbelief before reaching down, grabbing one of her suitcases and chucking it into the back of his truck.

"Wh….what in the world do you think you're doing?!" Levy scurried up next to him, trying without success to restrain his arm to keep him from tossing her second suitcase into the bed of the vehicle. Gajeel stubbornly ignored her protests, and began to mutter under his breath about infuriating females, shit wiring, and something about him going soft and Mackorov trying to turn him into a pansy-assed boy scout.

He went for her sleeping bag next, and Levy lunged, beating him to it and holding on for dear life. "Give my things back this instant." He stopped and eyed her, sizing her up. Levy planted her feet and glared.

He finally just rolled his eyes, and stalked toward her like big, grumpy old lion who'd missed its dinner. "Give me the bag, Shortround."

"No!"

Levy danced out of the way at his first swipe for the bag, but he was fast and caught hold on the second try. When Levy still didn't let go, he grinned maniacally, "Have it your way Shrimp." He then lunged forward with surprising speed. The next thing she knew, she'd been hefted over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, the sleeping bag still clenched in her stunned fingers. Immediately, she began beating his ass with the bag, squirming, and kicking. "Put me down you lecherous lout! Where do you think you're taking me!"

He gripped the back of her thighs tighter and smacked her lightly on her bottom, eliciting an indignant squeal from Levy. A moment later, she heard him open his driver's side door and a second after that she was being dumped into the cab . He immediately followed her inside, lifting her onto the passenger's seat and hitting the child safety locks before she could escape out the other door. "Let me out! Do you hear me you knuckle dragging Neanderthal?!"

Slamming his own door, Gajeel leaned across her, so close she could feel his breath on her cheek as well as pick up on the intoxicating scent of sawdust, leather, and something entirely masculine. Levy stilled, eyes wide and heart beating a mile a minute.

"Jesus, pipe down Shrimp, yer hurtin' my ears." A second later he leaned back. Levy felt the seatbelt settle across her chest, and then the click of the buckle. Fastening his own belt, he gunned the engine and started down the drive. Glancing sideways at her shocked and slightly fearful face, he grinned. "Relax, I ain't gonna hurt ya. I'm takin' you back to my place, yer obviously not prepared to rough it without any electricity."

Levy opened her mouth to protest but he barreled over her sputtering, "Stop lookin' at me like that, you know I'm right. Ya can't stay there all by yerself, not yet anyway. One night. You can sleep on the couch, everything'll be all proper, so stop lookin' at me like I'm some caveman toting ya off by the hair to his cave to have his way with ya."

Realizing she wasn't in immediate danger, Levy decided to move on from alarmed to affronted rage instead. "You may as well be, what right do you have to pick me up and manhandle me? That's just being a bully, you…you big bully!"

He had the sense to look at least slightly chastised, and cast her another sidelong glance as they drove down the rough gravel. "Alright, alright. It was a dick move. But tell me, would you have agreed ta come if I hadn't? Huh? Right or not?"

Levy turned her head and looked out the window, of course she wouldn't have. Taking her silence for conceding to his point Gajeel grunted. "That's what I thought"

Levy continued to maintain her silence for several long minutes, and finally it seemed to grate on Gajeel enough for him to extend an olive branch. Albeit a itty bitty, tiny withered one. "Look, you stay with me one night. Tomorrow we'll get ya some supplies and I'll give Laxus a call and see how soon he can wire the main floor for you, ok? He won't be able to do more than that for now, those support beams are gonna need to go up before anyone even thinks about traipsing around on the 2nd and third floor, let alone start busting out walls to rewire."

She glanced at his strong profile, and clenched jaw, "Who is Laxus?"

He grinned, clearly happy she was speaking to him again. "He's the old man's grandson and Magnolia's one and only electrician…well, that and his apprentice Natsu, but you better pray he doesn't send that pink headed pyro to do the job, the dudes crazy. I went ta school with him, I should know."

Twisting around to face Gajeel, Levy hugged the sleeping bag to her chest, genuinely confused. "Why are you helping me? I thought you wanted me to fail so you could have Lily?"

Gajeel shrugged and shot her a smirk, "I do, but I wanna win fair and square…and ya obviously didn't know about the whole electrical mess. The way I figure it, ya went inta this bet blind, and that don't sit right." He turned onto the main road and Levy sighed in relief when the tounge-biting bumps and jarring potholes gave way to smooth asphalt. "So…I'm gonna tell ya exactly what yer getting into tonight. Tomorrow, we'll get ya those supplies, and because I'm such a saint, I'll even throw in an extra two days for ya ta get settled before Day one of our two week bet begins. Sound fair?"

Levy studied his serious face, finally seeing a glimmer the kindness Mackarov swore to her that Gajeel possessed. He hid it well beneath all that manly blustering and teasing jibes, but low and behold, there was definitely a smidgen of it just as the old lawyer said.

Levy turned back towards the window, fighting back a smile. She just might have discovered how she was going to win this bet. Gajeel better prepare himself, he may think he had the upper hand, but boy was she about to prove him wrong.

….

Grabbing one of them by the handle, he chucked it into the bed of the truck, before doing the same with the


End file.
